Joanne's Unexpected Adventure
by Mystic Catface
Summary: Follow Joanne as she goes on the adventure of a lifetime, clinging onto broomsticks for dear life, giving Draco something to think about and generally causing as much havoc as is humanly possible. Spoof of sorts but nobody knows where it's going to end up
1. Default Chapter

Joanne's Unexpected Adventure

It was the first day of the summer holidays and Joanne was bored, not a good thing to be really when you have another month and a half off school but that's the way it was. She'd done everything she could to get into the school kid on holiday mood; staying in bed 'til past twelve, throwing all her school uniform into a corner, shuffling downstairs in her dressing gown to pinch the dog's place on the sofa after baiting her into the kitchen by kicking her bowl up and down it a few times. Her mother, trying to clean the dining room but failing because Joanne had migrated from the TV to sitting in front of the computer, said, the first of which would to turn out to be many times, "I'll be glad when you go back to school!" Joanne grunted and tuned out the rest of her mum's whinging about going outside and to stop sitting there with the curtains closed, ignoring her until she just waited until she left to go and laugh at Philip Schofield on This Morning. Her eyes never left Jelly Blobs of Doom on Neopets where she was manoeuvring around a particularly slow-moving blob of orange goo.

After finishing the game, she sat and attempted to think of something to do. Fanfiction? She hadn't read anything on there for ages because the stories were always so long and after looking through the latest entries and finding nothing of interest, she was even more bored. Then her eyes fell upon a parody of the first Harry Potter book. Hmmm, what if she was to write a parody with everything thrown in?

That afternoon, after spaghetti hoops and cheese on toast as brain fuel, the project began. Her plan was as follows – Draco, often portrayed as an evil little scruff with very nice hair, was going to turn out to be a good guy after all. He would defy his father and Voldemort and join Harry Potter's little gang even though for the past five years he has absolutely loathed them, hurling abuse at every possible moment, saying mean things about Harry's friends and generally being a pain in the bum. Even more strangely, everybody was going to just accept this personality change as thought they were expecting it all along. Hermione, originally the bookworm and voice of reason turns into Mione the Super Tramp, complete with short skirts and belly button piercing and immediately begin working her way through the male population of Hogwarts, including the teachers. Ron suddenly stopped being a bit of a berk and became buff over the summer holidays, deciding to work his way around the female population of Hogwarts whilst maintaining a tempestuous on/off relationship with Mione which would often involve screaming matches in the Great Hall over who had slept with who. Harry, fed up with being dumped at his Aunt's every year decided to leave and become a wizard on the edge, withdrawing large amounts of money from his vault and suddenly being able to learn hundreds of really complicated spells and living somewhere where even Dumbledore couldn't find him. He gets sucked into another universe to become a Dragon Master because it is his destiny, where he gets bullied at the school for being a pathetic human but turns out to be more powerful than them because he's Harry Potter, boy genius. Eventually he is let back into his own world where with his new skills he triumphs over Voldemort and gets a nice girlfriend, more often than not Ginny Weasley, heading for Super-Trampness but not quite getting there. She also performs Bat Bogey hexes at every conceivable opportunity.

Neville is ignored; Dean and Seamus are ignored because they're not important and are there for the sole purpose of filling up the Gryffindor Common Room and Great Hall at times of festivity, much the same as Lavender and Pavarti. Cho Chang has mostly been banished to a life of sobbing in the girl's toilets over Cedric and wandering about aimlessly so she and Harry can have the occasional uncomfortable glance when passing in the corridor.

Joanne was really getting into the story and had just started on a juicy love story between Draco and Hermione, including plenty of Mudblooding and Evil-Gitiness, when the computer stopped working. She hit it a few times and got it going again but the interruption had broken her concentration and she gave up, leaving her story for another day. That night she lay in bed and looked at the ceiling, new plot ideas swirling around her head. How about Dumbledore and McGonagall getting it on? She was going into the final details, which involved Snape walking in and being far more open-minded than you'd expect when a blue mist began seeping underneath her door.

She ignored it.

The blue mist became a blue torrent.

She still ignored it.

The blue mist swirled and grew to the height of a person, pulsating with an otherworldly light.

Joanne snored.

Finally giving up on a dramatic entrance, a hand materialised from the mist and slapped the sleeping girl around the face. Joanne sat bolt upright and stared around, seeing the bright light she growled.

"Mum! The security light out the back is on again!" (She had tried to stop this light by taking the bulb out but evidently they had replaced it.) She then lay down and went back to sleep.

Furious with this lack of screaming, OMG-ing and 'please-don't-hurt-me-ing', the mist dissolved to reveal a tall, beautiful woman with hair like rippling moonlight, and a face as terrible as the darkest winter. Joanne woke up.

"Puny mortal!" The woman cried; her voice like thunder, "I have come to rid thee of thy evil ways!"

"Eh?"

This threw the woman, usually they were begging for their lives by this time.

"You have been writing a parody of all the imaginative talent displayed by thousands on fanfiction, and I have come to reveal your punishment!"

Joanne finally sat up and did a category one strength sneer at the woman. "Who are you and what are you doing in my room?"

"Who am I?" she shouted, "I am the muse of fanfiction, the spark of an idea within a reader's mind, the force of -"

Joanne interrupted, "Yeah, whatever. Now go away."

The midnight-blue robes of the woman swirled as a wind suddenly blew through the bedroom, knocking over chairs and sweeping all the books and paper on Joanne's desk to the floor. The woman pointed an accusing finger at the girl and proclaimed,

"You will spend a year in the world of the book you choose to mock, then you will learn that disrespect comes at a price! We will meet again, and you shall bow down to me with the reverence I deserve. You have been warned." And with a flash the muse was gone. Joanne put it down to some dodgy baked beans and went back to sleep.

The following morning dawned bright and clear. Birds were singing, the guy next door was cheerfully hoovering his car as loudly as he could and somebody couldn't be bothered turning the burglar alarm off in the next street. All this noise didn't wake Joanne up though; nothing short of revving a motorbike next to her bed could wake her. The postman came and delivered his letters then walked off up the close, sprinkling elastic bands as he went. Joanne's mum brought the post in and frowned at a thick envelope addressed to

Miss J Fitzpatrick,

The Back Bedroom,

7 Harbury Close,

Long Marston,

North Yorkshire

She went upstairs and threw the letter at Joanne, being unable to open the door due to all the rubbish on the floor but being unable to get into Joanne's room was a regular occurrence so her mum didn't think anything was strange.

"Joanne, you were talking in your sleep again. Who were you yelling at?"

The radio suddenly burst into life, drowning out Joanne's reply of;

"Hmph."

Joanne listened to her mum going back downstairs and the sounds of This Morning filtered up through the floorboards. After listening for an hour to a mixture of Century FM's early morning breakfast show and what the latest summer fashions were from downstairs, Joanne suddenly became aware of the letter stuck to her face. Reaching up and peeling it off, she brought it close to her eyes and studied the wax seal, a shield with a lion, a badger, a bird and a snake on it. Turning it over, the sloping green ink spelled out her name and address. She was excited, after reading about it in Harry Potter; she'd always wanted one of these. Ripping the back open, out spilled two sheets of parchment. As she'd hoped, one told her she had been admitted for a year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and the other was a couple of books and stuff. She sat up, random thoughts from the previous night filtering through. Tall woman… smoke… lots of yelling. Nope, she couldn't remember the rest of the dream, a pity because it sounded like a good one to have written in her dream diary.

She got out of bed and threw the letter onto the desk, wondering who could have sent it. Charlotte? No, she was in Majorca. Emma? Not the practical joke type. Peter? She was only going out with him because he smelt nicer than a lot of the other boys in her class at school; he probably found it on EBay and thought it would be a funny thing to send her. She'd have to ask him where he got the seal from though because that was seriously cool. What she didn't notice though was the lack of a stamp on the front.

Joanne went out shopping to Tesco with her mum and tried to slip a four pack of Mars bars in when her mum wasn't looking, but it didn't work as well as she'd hoped and had to go and put them back again. Arriving home again, she went to open the front door and found two letters in the porch, identical to the one she had received earlier. Picking them up, she put them on the table in the sitting room for later, not noticing that they fell down the back when her mum plonked a bag of library books on there.

The following morning, her mum found seven identical letters amongst the usual bank statements and offers of a free blender if she ordered from the catalogue within the next three weeks. She asked Joanne who was sending them when she appeared at around three in the afternoon, but Joanne didn't know. Perhaps Peter had gotten a bulk pack of replica Hogwarts letters and gone a bit overboard on the joke. She texted him saying thanks but ten letters was enough. He texted back asking what on earth she was talking about. Joanne decided he was being deliberately vague and ignored it.

The next day was a Saturday and when her dad opened the front door, twenty letters were in the porch and later in the day when he opened the back door, several more were jammed into the windowsill outside. Joanne rang Peter and asked why he was sending all the letters, he replied that he hadn't sent her any letters and would she like to come round and watch his Lord of the Rings Special Edition DVD. She said no she wouldn't and to pack it in with the Hogwarts letters.

Sunday morning revealed a porch full of letters and a whole line of them wedged in the windowsill outside, causing her dad to start ranting about the sealant coming loose and people breaking into his back garden at night. Joanne decided to read them all to see if they were all identical. After managing twenty-three she gave up and took for granted that the next forty or so were probably the same. She also began thinking that it might not be Peter after all, though her sister had said that she often wondered about that boy. Joanne was reminded of Harry not replying to his letters and entertained the ludicrous thought that the letters might actually be real. Nah, surely not.

Whoever was sending these letters either had decided to give up or had run out of writing paper because no more letters appeared between then and the end of August, when Joanne was getting ready for her first day of college. On the morning of September the 1st, Joanne was doing what she usually did in the morning, lying in bed until she became hungry enough to get up and make herself breakfast. What she wasn't banking on was a flash of blue light, an explosion of smoke and a tall woman suddenly looming menacingly next to her. The Muse had decided that the gradual building of dramatic tension was wasted on Joanne, and had speeded things up in a shot at scaring her senseless. Unfortunately this tactic didn't work as the atmosphere was ruined when Joanne's radio came on with an advert for a furniture sale at Dovetail Mills, on until next Friday. Joanne sat up and glared at the woman for ruining her morning lie-in, a poor category two glare because it was too early for the effort required for category one. The Muse, outraged that her entrance was ineffective once again, just grabbed Joanne by the arm and they both disappeared with a bang. Joanne's mum called up from the living room,

"Joanne! Stop that banging!"

And that was that.

The muse and a scantily-clad Joanne spitting blue murder appeared in the middle of King's Cross Station. Several men and women in business suits looked over at the commotion then seeing a girl in a nightdress swearing to thin air, decided that the hadn't had enough coffee and ran for their trains. Joanne was livid, how dare this, thing, haul her into a train station when she wasn't wearing anything. The Muse smiled smugly, congratulating herself on having eventually annoying this girl who was so unimpressed before. After ten minutes of being yelled at though, she gagged her with a wave of her hand and dragged the struggling Joanne, who was doing an alarming job of working her way into a previously-unrecorded category of apoplectic rage, over to a brick wall. She bound Joanne's arms to her side and began speaking.

"You ignored my warning, and the letters, so now, through your own fault, you will be entering the magical world completely unprepared. Here are your things, seen as you couldn't be bothered getting them yourself and if the uniform doesn't fit that's your own fault too, and here's your wand, a temporary wand of course as it will only work for the year that you attend Hogwarts."

Joanne had stopped struggling and was thinking up a whole range of nasty things she would like to do to this woman, starting with clawing her eyes out.

"You will walk through this wall here onto Platform 9 ¾, unfortunately you'll have to do it by yourself so you get the full experience of being a student at Hogwarts otherwise I would have tied you to the front of the train and let you get there that way."

She unbound Joanne and neatly sidestepped the death-lunge, laughing evilly.

"Now, off you go, the clocks have stopped and won't start again until you get on that train, so you can take as long as you like whinging and stamping your feet, and you can't leave the station either."

Indeed, as Joanne looked around from her vantage point on the floor, (she'd tried going for one of the Muse's legs but the Muse didn't have legs and she'd slid straight through her), all the people had been frozen in time. Spinning around she was going to have a last go at stabbing the woman with a biro she'd found when she realised she was alone. Luckily for the readers of this story, Joanne wasn't the stamping, whinging or gazing tearfully up at the ceiling and wondering what she'd done to deserve such punishment type of girl and instead sent an all round sneer/glare combo at nothing in particular, promising revenge on that woman if it was the last thing she did.

Joanne opened up the trunk and pulled out a set of black robes, she pulled them on and rooted about until she found the one thing that might be good about this whole stupid business- her wand. It was around ten inches long made of a dark brown wood and she had no idea what was in the middle of it. Waving it produced nothing whatsoever which dampened her enthusiasm and she stuffed it in her pocked instead. There were a couple of books, parchment, ink and quills as well as a selection of her clothes from home. Joanne wasn't pleased to find that this included a bright green jumper she was given three years ago and had successfully hidden in the back of her wardrobe never to see the light of day again, or so she had hoped. Looking round and realising what was missing, she yelled,

"What! No owl! How am I supposed to be a witch without an owl?"

There was a period of silence then a birdcage suddenly dropped out of mid-air, containing a bad tempered Little Owl. Joanne stared at it and it turned its back to her and started preening angrily.

"That's it?" She asked. "What a stupid little bird. I bet it couldn't pick up a post-it note, never mind a letter."

The owl turned around again and growled, rattling its bars and giving its new mistress the evil eye. Joanne hitched up an eyebrow back and picked up the end of her trunk with one hand and the cage in another, the owl vainly trying to bite her arm off, then she strode forward through the brick wall and into her new world.

She stalked down the frozen platform, sparks from the trunk trailing in her wake. The owl emitted threatening noises until Joanne banged the cage into a garbage bin, knocking it out. As soon as she dragged her luggage onto the train, the door slammed behind her and the whistle blew. The compartments she came to were all full of chattering kids, but she at last found an empty one and left her stuff in the doorway as she couldn't be bothered moving it. Debating whether to throw the owl out of the window, she sat down and considered her position. First of all she'd need some friends then she'd need to learn enough magic so she could seriously hurt that old bag wearing the blue tablecloth next time they met. So deep within the musing was she that she didn't realise that somebody wanted to sit with her until a blond-headed boy tripped over her trunk and landed facedown on the seat opposite. Realising whom this was, Joanne perked up a bit. Draco Malfoy might be a malicious little toe rag but he was very fit too. Draco straightened up.

"Who are you?" He asked, "This is my carriage."

"Does it have your name on it?" Joanne replied. She was disappointed that the real Draco wasn't nearly as good looking as Tom Fenton. Draco sneered, "I'm a prefect, I don't need to put my name on it."

"Well goody for you and I don't care if this is your carriage or not because I'm staying."

Crabbe and Goyle who had been scaring first years both fell over Joanne's trunk as they came in. Joanne declared,

"Ooh look, Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum have arrived!

Draco looked furious, "Right, that's twenty points off for cheek, thirty for obstruction, and ten for having the ugliest bird ever."

The owl had woken up again and now was slightly cross-eyed as well as being a bit mangy.

"True about the bird, but I'd like to know how you're going to take off points seen as I'm not even in a house yet."

Draco looked her up and down.

"Where are you from then?"

"Mars."

Draco glared. "Don't get smart with me, after you've been sorted I can take as many points off as I like."

"Well, it isn't exactly hard to be smart around you is it seen as you've got Dumb and Dumber for friends."

Crabbe and Goyle cracked their knuckles menacingly. Joanne cracked hers back, daring them to start. They didn't. Draco, fed up with not being able to intimidate her, stood up and sneered, "I'll be keeping an eye on you." He then motioned for his henchmen to move the trunk out of the way, eventually getting impatient and striding over it just as they eventually got it moving, tripping him up and knocking him into the compartment opposite where he was immediately mobbed by his Slytherin fan girls from the fifth year.

Joanne stared out of the window, recognising the Yorkshire moors. So she had to go all the way down to London to get a train that went back up north again? Why couldn't there be more stations? She thought that she'd better go and find Harry, Hermione and Ron seen as the books were mostly about them after all. Wandering up and down the carriages, she finally found their compartment and opened the door. They looked at her strangely as she sat down.

"Err, hello," said Ron.

"Hi," replied Joanne hardly glancing at him, instead studying Harry's scar. "It looks more real than in the film."

Hermione looked confused, "Pardon?"

"His scar. I'm Joanne by the way; some stupid woman dumped me here and said I have to spend a year in the magical world so I could write proper stories about it."

"So you're a journalist?" asked Ron suspiciously.

"Not really."

Hermione butted in, "What woman?"

"Your hair isn't very bushy."

The ensuing silence lasted a long time.

"Right," said Hermione slowly.

"Do you mind if I call you Super Tramp or would you prefer Mione?"

Before Hermione could curse her, time froze again and Joanne slouched in the seat, crossing her arms and waiting for the Muse to turn up again. After a flash and lots of smoke she gracefully swirled into view.

"Do you have to do that every time you turn up?"

The Muse glowered and instead produced a roll of parchment.

"The rules say that you are not allowed to tell the other characters anything about your real purpose for being here as it would disrupt the cannon behaviour, and in the circumstance of the subject failing to produce a convincing alter-ego as it were, a past shall be created for them." She looked pointedly at Joanne over the top of the roll. "I have to erase the information you just gave them now. Do anything like that again and I'll erase yours too!" With an even bigger flash she disappeared. Joanne yelled,

"Can I have another owl? This one looks weird!"

The only answer she got was a rasping noise as the owl attempted to file its way out of the cage. Time suddenly started and the other three looked slightly unfocused for a second before Ron said,

"Err, hello."

Joanne sighed. "Hello, I'm Joanne and I didn't get kidnapped in any way shape or form and forced to spend a year in the wizarding world so I could find out how the characters really behave."

"Okay," Said Harry slowly. "So what are you doing here then, I haven't seen you around Hogwarts before?"

"That would be because I haven't been at Hogwarts before."

Harry looked slightly offended and Hermione swelled like she was about to tell Joanne to get lost but sensing that it would be best if she got on with these people, Joanne elaborated.

"Sorry, my stupid owl has been getting on my nerves and Draco fell on me earlier."

Harry raised an eyebrow, Hermione looked amused and Ron burst out laughing. There was a clang as Joanne's owl tried to throw the file at her.

"So are you in our year then? How come you didn't start Hogwarts in the first year?"

Joanne thought up an answer quickly, "I went to Durmstrang, but we moved back here. I didn't like Durmstrang much, too much Goulash."

This seemed to satisfy them, though Joanne privately suspected that the Muse was having an input with that one. They spent the rest of the journey telling her all about Hogwarts, which amused her as she probably knew more about what was going on than they did, and it was dark as the Hogwarts Express hissed into Hogsmead Station. Joanne got off and was about to follow Harry, Hermione and Ron into a carriage, not being able to see the Thestral which annoyed her in the aspect that she'd quite like to have seen a skeletal horse, when Hagrid called over the crowd.

"Joanne Fitzpatrick! Over 'ere! Come on, ger a move on will yeh!" Joanne glared. She was being forced to enter the castle with a bunch of first years. Sitting in the damp boat with three other kids, all half her size and scared silly by Draco telling them they were going to be fed one by one to a giant newt and the ones it coughed up again were the ones who would be allowed in, Joanne resisted the urge to push them in the lake so she would have more leg space. After getting to the far side and congregating in the entrance hall waiting for the sorting they were eventually ready and told to get in a line. Joanne looked ridiculously out of place and decided to take this out on the eleven-year olds nearest to her by elaborating on the giant man-eating newt idea by giving it thousands of sharp teeth and telling them that it chewed them whole, and really slowly and because she was in sixth year, she didn't have to do it. After successfully making most of them cry and one boy wet himself, McGonagall led them in. Sniggers immediately started as Joanne stomped in but withering looks from her shut several of them up. The Sorting Hat started singing and Joanne sighed again, choosing to look at the cloudy ceiling instead of those staring at her.

"The past years have brought much unrest,

And hope is hard to find,

But though the evil manifest

Good and light can darkness, bind.

The four houses, though far apart

Can as one, resist defeat

Kindness, Friendship and the Heart

Can spill Hatred from its seat."

"Who comes up with these poems?" Joanne muttered to herself.

"Gryffindors, the brave, the fighters

Defenders of the light,

With their swords of justice, smiters,

Striving to keep hope bright."

Joanne rolled her eyes, "Somebody pass me a sick bag."

Hufflepuffs, the quiet but strong,

Working tirelessly and loyal,

Steadfast when the evil throng,

And modest of their toil."

"They look a bit gormless to me," sniffed Joanne, wondering where the toilets were.

"Ravenclaw, the clever, the wise,

Strategy and learning are friends,

The slothful are in their eyes,

Failures in the end."

"Well I hope I'm not in that one then," thought Joanne, thinking of her morning lie-ins.

"And Slytherin, proud of mind,

And ambitious in deed,

Take care not to cross this kind,

They are a resourceful breed."

"That sounds more like it!" Declared Joanne, but when she spotted Draco smirking at her she changed her mind, it would be more fun to annoy him if she was in another house. The loud applause told her the hat had finished and she watched as one after one the kids in front of her were sorted, a couple of whom she was pleased to see, still looking wildly around for the giant newt.

"Joanne Fitzpatrick." McGonagall called. Joanne stepped forward and sat on the stool, the hat being placed upon her head by the Professor. Joanne sat in silence for a couple of seconds, waiting for the voice like it happened in the movie but the voice she heard wasn't the one she wanted to hear.

"Well, how do you like this world so far then?" Asked the Muse, amusement clear in her voice. Joanne snarled, "Oh, I'm just having a wonderful time, standing there like some kind of alien, a foot taller than all the rest of the little sprogs, listening to some old hat wittering away and now I have to listen to you!"

"Now, now," said the Muse, "Be nice or I'll put you in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff and you can miss out on all the interesting stuff."

"But I thought the point of me being here was to find out what the characters were really like."

"I can change the rules especially for you see as you are so irritating." The Muse seemed quite taken with the idea.

"Fine, everything is just amazing now will you stick me in a house already, people are starting to stare."

Indeed, Professor McGonagall was about to tap the hat and ask what was taking so long when Joanne suddenly stood up, giving the old dear a bit of a shock.

"Gryffindor!" Bellowed the hat. Joanne dumped it back on the stool and stalked to the Gryffindor table, which was cheering. She sat down next to where Hermione had cleared a space, rolling her eyes at the blatant overacting. "Hmph!"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Joanne ignores stuff 

Joanne was sat in Dumbledore's office, wondering if the headmaster of Hogwarts ever took Gryffindor's sword out of its case and waved it around in a pretend fight. She smirked and looked across the mahogany desk littered with spindly silver machines and pieces of parchment to meet Dumbledore's bright blue eyes studying her over his spectacles. He looked amused and allowed himself a small smile before picking up the note Professor Snape had angrily scrawled out earlier that afternoon.

"I'm sure that you will be relieved to hear that Mr Malfoy's hair will regrow within a few days thanks to Madam Pomfrey's excellent care."

Joanne made a non-committal sound and looked at the ceiling. It was his own fault, if he hadn't of pushed her, making her pour far too much Gnatroot juice into her potion, she wouldn't of turned round and poured the remainder of it all over his head. Instantly all of his hair fell out and he had to be quickly escorted to the hospital wing in shock whilst Snape hauled her to the front and took forty points off Gryffindor. Joanne privately thought that this was a bit harsh seen as it was Draco's own fault for getting his head in the way but potions was boring and smelt of pickled dead things so she gladly took the excuse to wander around the castle a bit. She had been having an interesting chat on the eleventh floor with a portrait of a barmy old man in a toga about the best way to eat doormice when Professor Dumbledore appeared next to her.

"I was thinking of varying the menu," said Dumbledore after he had greeted the ancient Roman in the painting. Joanne wondered whether he was joking or being perfectly serious but the headmaster just gave her an enigmatic smile before beckoning her to follow him.

The said Professor was now looking at her again as though deciding what was the best thing to do. Joanne had finished her in depth study of the ceiling and was now looking at the contraption nearest to her.

"What does it do?"

Dumbledore gestured towards the machine, "Turn it and see."

Joanne reached forward and took hold of the handle, which immediately came off in her hand. Dumbledore's eyebrows shot up into his hairline and Joanne pushed the silver handle across the desk.

"Not very good if it falls apart just by touching the handle is it? I'd take it back and get a refund if I were you."

"Ah well," agreed Dumbledore, studying his now handle-less ornament, "I've been meaning to clear some mess off my desk for a while."

Joanne sat up in her seat, expecting to be dismissed with a strict warning not to pour things over people in future but Dumbledore sat back and placed his fingertips together under his chin.

"So how are you settling into Hogwarts? Different from Durmstrang I expect."

"Erm, it's certainly very different." Frantically she tried to think of what JK Rowling had mentioned with regards to the other wizarding school. "It's warmer here," was the best she could manage. Dumbledore nodded as though he understood completely.

"I visited my colleague Professor Karkaroff many, many years ago and I can honestly say I'll never regret the lack of Yetis in Scotland again."

"Ah, yeah, Yetis. They…don't like people much do they?" she invented.

Dumbledore laughed and his silver beard sparkled in the sunlight. Joanne was quite impressed despite herself.

"Usually no but I, being young and foolish, did not heed the warnings and went out exploring on my own and met a female Yeti fishing in a river."

Joanne privately thought that she really did not want to know where this story was going and pointedly looked at her watch but the professor was deep in his musings and staring at a point about a foot above her head.

"I was kidnapped and it was three days before I could convince her to let me leave."

"Probably for the best, Sir. Long distance relationships rarely work."

Joanne was glad to leave Dumbledore's office.

Unfortunately she was back in there roughly two and a half hours later accompanied by a icily worded note from Professor Sprout informing her that she would no longer welcome back into the greenhouses until she learnt to control her temper. Dumbledore had obviously spent the afternoon reminiscing about his exploits with the Yeti and was in an indulgent mood, offering her chewy toffees that chewed themselves so the chewer did not get toffee all over their teeth. Joanne explained that during Herbology she had been pruning a rose which had been trying to strangle her when something bit her on the hand so she turned around and hit it with her trowel, cutting the head off a baby Shivering Cactus. It was still moving so she hit it again, then another two jumped out of a bush so she hit those as well. How was she to know that Shivering Cactuses are actually very friendly and the first one she had decapitated had only been born yesterday and was trying to climb onto her hand? Hermione had looked at her like she was a maniac when she found Joanne hammering a still twitching cactus into the bench and Professor Sprout had not been best pleased either. Joanne had been immediately kicked out of the greenhouse, being put on manuring duties until she could be trusted working with plants again.

Professor Dumbledore promised to have a word with Professor Sprout and Joanne left him chuckling as she walked back to her common room. Her owl was sat on the windowsill, snoring away to itself. She had eventually let it out of the cage once she had started getting odd looks from the other five girls she shared her dorm with and hit it with a pillow when it tried to go for her again. After that it just sat and glared at her malevolently. The others seemed to think it was really cute and fed it treats but Joanne ignored it and it ignored her, which seemed to work fine for both of them. She had half an hour before Divination so she decided to write a letter home. Finishing with a flourish and a lot of streaked ink, it was taking her a while to get used to writing with a quill; she folded the parchment and sealed it before contemplating the little owl before her. It's snoring sounded like something stuck in a blender. Joanne tied her letter to its leg then prodded it with her wand and it gave a surprised squeak. Quickly grabbing it so it could not sink its beak into her finger, she opened the window with the other hand.

"Take this letter home, bird, and I might let you back through the window when you come back."

Joanne then threw the owl out of the window, expecting it to swoop off then turn back round and dive-bomb her but instead it plummeted straight down into a bush below her window. She heard a thump as it bounced out and landed on the grass then it got up and staggered about in circles. She sighed and made her way downstairs and out of the front doors, nodding to Neville as she passed him. Usually very friendly towards her, this time he clutched the plant he was holding nearer to his chest and quickly ran up the stairs.

"Heard you were thrown out of the greenhouses, all those baby cactuses ganging up on you were they?" Joanne gave Malfoy a bored look as he lounged against the stone pillar with his arm around a sniggering Pansy Parkinson.

"Well I heard that you saw yourself in a mirror without any hair and fainted, you're so manly Draco."

She ignored Pansy's shriek of indignation and carried on walking around the castle until she found the bush below the Gryffindor tower. There were a few feathers and shredded bits of paper but no owl in evidence so Joanne followed the paper trail of the remains of her letter down the grass slope to an oak tree. Sat in the lowest branch was her owl, insolently chewing on the remains of her parchment.

"So you can fly when you put your mind to it."

The owl spat out the letter and yawned at her then jumped off the branch and hit her on the head before making its way to a group of first years sat on the grass. It crash landed in the middle of them and played the cute card to such effect that he was scooped up and immediately adopted by a girl with pink ribbons in her ponytail. It was placed on her shoulder and it spun its head round to glare triumphantly at Joanne, who rolled her eyes again and trudged back to the common room to find Neville and explain that she wasn't really a plant murderer.


	3. Chapter 3

Joanne woke up to find her owl's previous day's lunch an inch from her face. From this rather personal angle she could make out in surprising detail the regurgitated mass of bones and fur and also some of the parchment from her attempt at sending a letter home. She was glad to see this, at least hadn't gone down without a fight. The relationship between the owl and its mistress had, if it was possible, deteriorated even further to the point where if Joanne walked into the room, it would start hacking up a pellet and if the opportunity arose, the owl would in return get 'accidentally' smacked out of the window with a flailing arm/book/coal bucket.

Lessons had been progressing even though Divination was more an exercise in staying awake and refraining from laughing at the sight of twenty teenagers taking their shoes and socks off and attempting to divine the future from the lines on their feet than an instructive lesson in alternative magic. The best Joanne could manage from inspecting the feet of a guy called Ben, was that he was seventy three years old and about to happen upon some misfortune if he wasn't killed before middle age by a love rival with a grudge against his mother.

After studying Joanne's feet for a considerable amount of time and using his quill to occasionally scribble notes on them, Ben then confidently announced that she was planning to get married but she didn't know who to and after this she would have a short, difficult life avoiding commitment and bad financial decisions. When she pointed out that getting married to somebody she didn't know was about as bad a financial decision as you could make and also something she'd be unlikely to do if she was afraid of commitment, he got offended and suggested that she should read her own feet in future if she didn't like hearing the harsh, bitter truth. He then turned around and joining in the heated debate next to them upon whether a line running horizontally across the arch meant imminent death or something lost, something gained.

Half an hour of foot-reading later, the room was beginning to smell pretty sweaty despite the perfume and Joanne was feeling faint as well as a bit stupid. Eventually they were let out and she hurled herself into the fresh air. That was horrific, how on earth could spending ages in a stifling room peering at people's feet help her write a story?

Joanne then stopped dead and narrowed her eyes as something dawned on her.

"YOU DID THAT ON PURPOSE DIDN'T YOU?"

"Jo?"

Joanne looked down from where she'd been yelling at the sky, to see Hermione stood in front of her with a confused expression on her face.

"Who are you yelling at?"

"Arggh! I've just had Divination."

This seemed to be explanation enough for Hermione who spent the rest of their walk to the Quidditch pitch calling Professor Trelawney a long list of names which often featured the words 'lying', 'old' and 'hag'.

Harry and Ron were cruising about on broomsticks getting a bit of practise in before new teams had to be chosen. Hermione seemed to have no inclination to hover forty feet above the air with just a stick between her and imminent death and settled down to make notes on what to do if you accidentally swallow a bottle of poison. Joanne was about to suggest 'learn to read labels' when Ginny sat down next to her, carrying her own broom.

"Do you play?" she asked, indicating up to where Harry was doing his best to hit Ron in the back of the head with the Quaffle.

"I've never flown on a broom."

"What?!" Ginny looked horrified. "How? What? Why? Right."

Before she knew it, Joanne was stood on the grass clutching onto what was basically a flying brush. She had never felt more uncomfortable in her life.

"How do you stop the twigs digging in?"

This was apparently not a question Ginny wanted to hear and therefore ignored it as she checked Joanne's positioning. Finally she stood back.

"Off you go then."

Joanne looked up at where Ron and Harry were leaning on the goalposts, trying not to laugh, and gritted her teeth. What's the worst that could happen? Just push off, drift for a bit and then hit the ground again without flashing her knickers, it'll be fine. She bent her knees a bit and took a deep breath. "One…two…three…go!"

She bunny hopped into the air and landed on the grass again. Ron nearly wet himself laughing and had to be helped to the ground by Harry. This did not amuse Joanne who gave him evils then crouched again, this time she was going to at least get more than half an inch in the air if she dislocated something doing it.

"One…two…three…arghhhh!"

Joanne launched herself upwards and to the immense shock of everybody watching, didn't stop. She rocketed straight upwards into the clouds and eventually vanished. Harry, Ron and Ginny all climbed onto their brooms and went after her, leaving Hermione stood there wondering what on earth Joanne had managed to do now.

After what seemed like several minutes of screaming wind and splinters, Joanne decided that she should at least open her eyes in case she hit an aeroplane or something. She did so and saw a large dark grey mass directly above her, approaching at high speed so she shut them again and wished that life wasn't such a bitch. The cloud hit her like a bucket of cold water and the shock made her wrench the handle around so instead of going vertically upwards she was plummeting to the ground headfirst. Upon opening her eyes a second time Joanne quickly came to the conclusion that this situation wasn't much of an improvement upon the first and wrenched the handle away to the left so she ended up flying upside-down at a hundred and ninety two miles an hour out across the Forbidden Forest. It was absolutely freezing and being wet made it worse but Joanne's main concern was not falling off and getting chewed to death by a werewolf or some other thing with more teeth than should be allowed.

"Jo!"

She peered through her hair and saw Harry flying parallel, trying to mime something to her and doing rolls on his broom. Joanne would have sworn at him for showing off when she was basically hurtling to her death but she didn't want to let go of the handle. Eventually he gave up and flew underneath her, grabbing the back of her robes and spinning her so she was sat upright again then took the end of her broom and tilted it slightly upwards so they gradually slowed down to a gentle cruising speed.

"What the hell were you doing?!"

Joanne prised her fingernails out of the wood and tried to gather the faints scraps of dignity she had left.

"Just putting it through its paces. Not a bad broom, judders a little over one-fifty but apart from that…"

Harry thought it was best just to not say anything.

At dinner that evening, Ron told her she should apply for the team as a Bludger and basically scare everybody senseless careering around the pitch. Joanne silently vowed never to as much as jump off a step again for as long as she lived and decided that the mashed potato she was eating was the most amazing thing she had ever tasted. She found that near-death experiences tended to make her quite sentimental.

Hermione had given her a long lecture on how many horrible, big, hairy things lived in the Forbidden Forest and exactly how each of them would have torn her to pieces if she had landed in there, which surprisingly hadn't made her feel much better. At least she knew now that the way she would have died if caught by a giant spider was wrapped up in a cocoon and injected with gastric juices so she dissolved from the inside out. Ginny had told her to save the descriptions until after dinner so they were now idly wondering what would be happening for Halloween at the castle. Joanne's mother had never allowed her to go out at night to badger old people for sweets just because she'd put a plastic witch mask on so she was not particularly bothered about it but having a Halloween where there were proper witches around could be interesting.

Letting her eyes drift over the crowd she gave Malfoy a sneer as he levitated the eyes out of the grilled fish in front of him into the pocket of a Ravenclaw, and ended up looking at the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher chatting with McGonagall. Called Professor le Fay, he was in his mid-thirties from what she could guess, tall, shoulder length blonde hair, bright green eyes and quite a hit with the female section of Hogwarts. Joanne wasn't convinced; there must be something dodgy about him, and she was going to find out what it was. She had had a few Defence lessons and she had to admit that he was a pretty good teacher, amusing, charming and engaging he took a boring topic and instead of talking at you about it, actually encouraged discussion. Hermione could barely contain herself in his presence, much to the annoyance of Ron who couldn't hate le Fay as much as he wanted to because he had congratulated him on answering a question correctly. Joanne however refused to let herself be drawn in by his good looks, he was blatantly evil.

Le Fay finished speaking and turned to pick up his goblet, Joanne stuffed a chicken leg in her mouth and tried to look inconspicuous. Professor Dumbledore then stood up and surveyed his students, which were doing their best to grab things off the plates before they disappeared.

"Now that we've had our fill of such delicious desserts I would like to say a couple of announcements. Firstly, a belated welcome to our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher Professor Le Fay who assures me that he already feels quite at home."

Le Fay gave a roguish grin and saluted the hall with his goblet. MacGonagall tapped his arm in an indulgent 'don't encourage them' way.

"She fancies him," Joanne muttered to Ginny underneath the cheering.

"Doesn't everybody?" she replied.

Joanne looked at Snape, who for somebody who had famously wanted that job for years seemed remarkably unbitter about it going to somebody far better-looking and younger than him.

"Hmm, maybe."


	4. Chapter 4

It was the first time for several weeks that Joanne had been allowed into the greenhouses without continuous supervision from Professor Sprout, which she was ecstatic about because shovelling dragon muck around wasn't her idea of a fun afternoon. The smell tended to hang around afterwards too, strong enough to clear rooms as she found out when she spent more than one evening in the common room playing wizard chess with herself. Finally Sprout had grudgingly let her join the class again but throughout the preamble about correctly pruning Strangler Vines she sent Joanne dirty looks as though she expected her to suddenly freak out with the trowels again. Jo tried to look apologetic but Professor Sprout obviously wasn't having any of it.

She gave her one last pointed look and let them get on with tackling the plants in front of them. Joanne surprisingly enjoyed Herbology even though she couldn't remember the last time she had been into the garden back at home, let alone weeded. But when the plant you are dealing with can take a chunk out of your hand or spray a poison strong enough to floor an elephant, being a gardener seemed a lot more exciting. The greenhouses they were in were quite groovy as well, full of huge prehistoric-looking ferns and brightly coloured foliage, the air heavy with strange smells. Some of the plants actually made noises as well as being able to move, which Ron found out when he accidentally stood on a trailing vine and it gave out a moan like a dying moose. Joanne quickly learnt it was best not to touch anything unless you had Hermione or Neville stood next to you.

The Strangler Vines they were about to prune were about two foot tall and had long green gently waving arms. Professor Sprout said many wizarding households used them as cat deterrents. Joanne thought of her Dad's never ending battle against the neighbourhood cats and grinned, he'd love some of these.

Neville had already charmed his and was chatting away to it but Hermione was the first to find out why it was termed a Strangler Vine when she tried to slice one of the tendrils off with her secateures. As soon as the plant felt the cold metal all of its arms wrapped themselves around Hermione's wrist and squeezed as hard as they could, it took four of them to prise the plant off and rescue her hand before it stopped the circulation to her fingers. Harry went for a quick stabbing approach but this wasn't very successful and his vine soon ended up looking like it had been in a lawnmower. Ron was actually managing to do a good job of his by using Neville's technique of lulling the plant into a sense of false security by chatting away about Quidditch then sneaking in and quickly snipping off branches. Jo tried this by describing her theories of Le Fay's evilness to her plant but once it had been cut, it took ages to calm it down again and after twenty minutes she had only managed a few snips and was running out of reasons why she thought the DADA Professor was obviously best friends with Voldemort.

'This is taking far too long' she thought to herself, looking around the room to see how far other people had got. Neville had somehow convinced his plant that it wanted to be hacked to bits and had finished his to move on to helping Seamus whilst Hermione had recovered the feeling in her fingers and was using a trowel as a decoy. The rest of the group were using variations of this or just jabbing at their plant like Harry had done, making Professor Sprout wince every time she walked past. Joanne sighed and studied her plant. Eventually an idea occurred to her and she pulled out her wand.

'Protrificus Totalus!'

Her spell rebounded off the plant in front of her and hit Professor Sprout in the back whilst she was talking to Neville, turning her rigid. Conversation in the building stopped.

"Joanne! What are you doing?" Hermione squeaked.

"I just thought it would be easier if the plant couldn't move."

The whole class started laughing and Joanne rolled her eyes at the struggling plant in front of her, why could nothing just be simple? Slamming her wand down on to the table, she thought about setting the stupid thing on fire. Professor Sprout had by now unfrozen and marched over to her.

"What in the name of Merlin did you think you were doing? First you hit my plants, and now you are trying to hex them! I want you out of my greenhouse! Out!"

"But it…" Joanne was going to explain the logic behind hexing the plant but a smell of burning stopped her and she looked down to see that sparks from her wand had ignited some dry leaves on the table, which had then blown off to spread to debris scattered on the greenhouse floor. Fire was now rapidly spreading underneath the table, catching people's bags and parchment.

One girl grabbed her satchel and seeing it on fire, screamed and threw it into the flowerbed, others were running out of the greenhouse which was now filling with smoke whilst some climbed onto the table and were subsequently attacked by half-pruned strangling vines attaching to their ankles.

"Everybody out! Leave your bags here! Come on, move!" Professor Sprout was ushering the students towards the door whilst trying to douse the fire with water but due to the amount of flammable material the flames moved faster than the professor, with the help of Hermione, could manage. Joanne was helping prise plants off people and ended up with two latched onto her right arm.

"Joanne! Come on! Where are you?" She could hear Hermione's voice somewhere to her right but the smoke was getting thicker and the noise of the burning vegetation louder. Some of the plants had started screaming in high-pitched wails, others thrashed around, smashing the glass walls and roof.

"Jo! We have to get out!"

Joanne tried to answer but the smoke made her cough and splutter and the vines on her arm were squeezing tighter and tighter as the temperature rose. One was moving up towards her face and she could feel it reaching for her neck but the smoke was so thick she couldn't see where the exit was and unknowingly staggered further into the building, fighting with the vines. She managed to get one off by smashing her wrist into a tree trunk but the other had a firm fix on her upper arm and tendrils were going for her eyes as she dropped to her knees, the thick smoke blocking the sun. She was coughing violently and the vine had grasped her neck whilst she grappled with it on the floor, fire surrounding her.

Suddenly the wreathing plant was gone from her neck and Joanne felt herself being hauled up off the floor. She couldn't see who it was as tears were streaming down her face but they slung her over their shoulder and ran out of the burning greenhouse, the fresh air hitting her as they got outside. Once clear of the greenhouse she was put down and she collapsed to her knees gasping as her rescuer knelt down and wiped her face with a handkerchief.

"Are you alright?"

Joanne coughed into their face then lay flat on the ground, feeling like her lungs were on fire. 'DO I LOOK ALRIGHT?' was what she wanted to yell but the best she could manage was a croak. Evidently her expression gave the man bent over her an idea of what she was thinking because he grinned and summoned a goblet of water. Helping her sit up, she drank a few mouthfuls before having another coughing fit.

"You'll be fine. Just some smoke inhalation and bruising around the neck. Madame Pomfrey will have you sorted out in no time, she's a wizard with medicine."

Joanne didn't have the energy to groan and instead just turned to give him a withering look. Although her eyes were still stinging from the smoke, she recognised the voice of Professor Le Fay and although he had just saved her from a burning building, he still looked his usual laid back self.

"Drink the rest of this," handing her the goblet he stood up and took off his cloak which was dirty with soot and sat back down next to her. Around them people were running either to or away from greenhouse three, now an inferno. Professor Sprout was still trying to save plants and had to be restrained by Professor Vector whilst other teachers strove to keep back the students and tackle the flames at the same time.

"What have you managed to do this time?" He asked her in disbelief.

Joanne finished wiping her eyes with his handkerchief and shrugged.

"I don't know, stuff just happens to me. I only wanted to prune a plant."

Le Fay's threw his head back and laughed, his blonde hair gleaming in the late afternoon sun. 'He sure knows how to pose,' Joanne thought. He raised an eyebrow at her as if he knew exactly what she was thinking and she smirked and turned back to the greenhouse just in time to see the roof collapse. It looked like everybody had gotten out; some of the girls were hysterical and had to be led away to be calmed down. Others only had minor burns or scratches but most of the school had by now run outside to see what was going on and were cheering and shouting. Joanne couldn't believe it, how on earth had she managed to set fire to a greenhouse?

Hermione had spotted her sat on the ground next to Professor Le Fay and ran over to them, her hair slightly singed at the ends.

"Are you alright?" She gasped, stopping in front of them, "when I couldn't find you I thought you'd…"

Joanne thought she'd … as well but thanks to le Fay all she had was a broken wrist and an inability to say much without coughing up her tonsils.

"I had better go and see what I can do to help," Professor le Fay purred next to her, "Au revoir mes amis!"

He stood up in one graceful movement and with a courtly bow to them both, strode off back towards the fire, his long black cloak, now clean, swishing behind him. Hermione watched him go with her mouth slightly open. Joanne reasoned that there wasn't any harm in ogling him a bit too and did so until he disappeared amongst the throng of hysterical students. Hermione stood dazed for a moment then sat down next to her with a thump.

"He is…" Hermione seemed unable to find a word to accurately describe the vision that had just strolled away from them and the best Joanne could currently come up with was 'pwoor'.

Presently, Harry and Ron found them and they all walked back to the castle recounting the excitement of the afternoon in minute detail. According to them, Professor Sprout had to be sedated and that gave Joanne roughly a day before she was hauled back into Dumbledore's office, possibly to be expelled. This Hogwarts lark was more difficult than it sounded. Also, le Fay was if possible getting more and more gorgeous every day.

A fan group had already been started in Gryffindor, which basically consisted of seven girls sitting in a corner sighing over how fantastic he was and writing short stories about him. These, as far as Joanne could tell from earwigging their conversations during History of Magic, either consisted of them being in some sort of peril where le Fay rescued them with much death-defying leaping and impassioned speeches about each of them completing the other or le Fay being the one in peril and they were the one running in to save him, again with long flowery prose about fate dragging them together despite the huge adversaries they have to overcome. Also popular was the 'late night detention that turns into ripping off of clothes and pulling away from each other just before another teacher walks in,' theme.

Even though it was mostly drivel that could have been solved by locking the door, Joanne found this infinitely more interesting than learning how in 1612 there had been a rival fraction of witches and wizards wanting to declare Lancashire an independent state. However, Joanne still wasn't sure about Professor Le Fay, despite being pulled from a burning building in a fangirl's dream come true. Unfortunately it was impossible for le Fay to do anything without being the centre of attention so subsequently she'd been asked so many times about being rescued it was driving her insane. She didn't know what it was, but he was just too good to be true.

The following day she found out through the Gryffindor grapevine that Professor Sprout had woken up from her sedation with no recollection of what happened the previous day. This meant that the poor woman had to be told again that half of her plants had been burned alive but on the up side, she didn't know it was Joanne who had caused that to happen. Jo decide though that drawing as little attention to herself as possible was the wisest option available but Professor Le Fay seemed to think that every time they passed each other in the corridor the occasion required him to come out with some incredibly witty comment about the previous day's events. She didn't know how she managed it but after every lesson, either on her way to her next class or Gryffindor tower before lunch, she ended up walking down the same corridors as he did. It really looked like she was stalking him and from the grins and winks he gave her he obviously thought so too.

"You're looking a bit flushed today Joanne, are you burning up?"

She gave him a sarcastic grin and left him laughing to himself whilst she entered the Great Hall and sat down next to Hermione. The Le Fay fan group all started whispering and giggling as soon as he entered behind her.

"It's pathetic," said Joanne, grumbling into her goblet, "have they seriously got nothing better to do?" She jerked her head in the direction of the girls further down the table. The giggling stopped as they all watched as le Fay saunter into the hall and momentarily pause in a convenient shaft of sunlight coming down from one of the high windows. It caught his hair magnificently, tuning it to gold as he brushed it out of his eyes and slowly gave the entire room a knowing grin. Joanne swore she heard one of the Gryffindor girls squeak.

Harry suddenly sat down next to her and reached for some food, complaining about how pathetic the beaters had been during trials.

"Are you sure you don't want to play?" He asked her, "you don't need to worry about flying really as long as you manage to knock out the other team instead of ours."

Joanne quickly shook her head and took another sandwich before he pinched them all.

"How did you manage to do that anyway?" she asked him.

"Do what?"

"Appear out of nowhere, you gave me the fright of my life!"

"It's him," Harry indicated to the top table where le Fay was treating McGonagall to an incredibly funny story judging by the way she was having trouble keeping herself in her chair she was laughing that much. "As soon as he turns up I could be walking around naked and nobody would notice."

Joanne raised an eyebrow.

"It's good," he continued, "I've always hated being stared at, makes it more difficult to do stuff I shouldn't be doing."

Hermione nodded sagely and continued flicking her wand at the plate in front of her. The surface shimmered but Joanne could not tell what was happening from her angle. Hermione noticed her enquiring look and lifted it up.

"Scrying spell, you can use any flat surface. Has a limited range though, I can get down to the lake and up to the eighth corridor but that seems to be it. Wonder if it can be increased somehow…."

Joanne left her to her musings. She had Divination that afternoon and they should have been casting auguries throughout the week using a variety of objects including toenail clippings and the bones picked out of owl pellets. Her owl, usually so compliant when it came to leaving the remains of his lunch secreted away in her bed, had developed some sort of sixth sense and had been completely unforthcoming for the entire week. Joanne hoped he choked on them. She'd used some of Hedwig's, deciding not to ask when she'd found a skull containing three eye sockets. All in all, the entire exercise had been a complete waste of time seen as every outcome could have at least three or four meanings. On one casting, using gobstones as a substitute for earwigs, she had managed to divine fifty-seven different futures for Hermione before one of them malfunctioned and squirted itself off the board. Joanne didn't want to know what that had meant and left it at that.


	5. Chapter 5

Joanne watched the snail intently as it slowly inched its way across the table, leaving a long trail of slime glittering behind it. She picked it up just as it was about to make a bid for freedom down the table leg and dropped it back in the jam jar between her and a boy called Oliver.

"Well?" she said.

Oliver chewed his quill thoughtfully, considering carefully the path the snail had taken; weaving its way through the second quarter of the moon's path before heading diagonally across the zone indicating the immediate past with a quick dip towards the sign of Aquarius. It had then left the sheet of parchment upon which Joanne had painstakingly drawn out the divination board and had tried to climb onto Oliver's hand. They had started again from where it had left but it seemed more inclined to getting off the paper than onto it.

After several minutes deliberation he came to a conclusion.

"I don't know."

"What?"

Oliver shrugged. "I don't know and I don't really care."

Joanne gave him a long unblinking look. Oliver sighed and leant back in the pouf he was perched on, obviously expecting her to launch into a 'Divination is one of the most important subjects in the school, how can you not care?' speech.

"Come on, just stand back and look at what we're doing," he continued. "We are watching a snail creep across a piece of parchment with some lines on it and all the explanations are so vague I could have put them in a hat and just pulled them out at random."

He didn't know what to say when she launched herself at him, gave him a huge hug and then grabbed the book.

"Right, let's do exactly that."

"You've obviously made a new friend."

Joanne grinned at Hermione and gave Oliver, sat at the Ravenclaw table, a quick wave. He gave her the thumbs up back.

"Professor Trelawney was so impressed with our foretelling of impending doom that we didn't get any homework. This means I can eat food now without having to record the pattern of crumbs on my plate after every meal."

Hermione smiled back and nodded sympathetically, "I'm so glad I dropped it, I would have ended up smothering her in one of her own scarves."

Joanne's laugh brought Neville into the conversation and they spent the rest of the meal trading stories of the most outrageous predictions they had made during her classes. Harry and Ron, coming in late and sopping wet from Quidditch practise were reminiscing over their dream interpretations from several years ago when Dumbledore, resplendent in a deep red gown with a gold phoenix embroidered over one shoulder, stood up and addressed the Great Hall.

"Students! How pleased I am to see you all here enjoying such magnificent food." He paused and sighed contently, beaming at them all. It was surprising the effect that le Fay had had on everybody. Dumbledore's wardrobe, if slightly eccentric before, now frequently shocked people into silence. McGonagall acted like a woman forty years younger, humming to herself whilst walking through corridors and distributing points on a whim. Snape, usually a permanently bitter, sour faced figure that sat hunched behind his desk and glared at everybody had yesterday been rumoured to have muttered 'good work' to a Gryffindor over the state of her Anti-jinx potion. Professor le Fay himself was reclined in his chair at the top table, a small smile on his lips as he surveyed them all over his goblet. Joanne was sure he winked at her when she caught his eye but it could have been a trick of the light.

"I hope you have all been working hard and also playing hard this term," Dumbledore continued with a chuckle, "but it is time we all let our hair down. As you all know, Halloween is around the corner and we shall be having an evening of entertainment and a feast!"

The cheers echoed around the hall and Dumbledore looked incredibly pleased with himself. "I shall leave the details for the night itself so I hope you all can join us! Please finish this wonderful meal and remember, life isn't all about work, small pleasures can make even the most tedious of tasks go quicker!"

These words were of little comfort two days later when Joanne found herself scrubbing the front porch clean after walking in muddy from the greenhouses and coming face to face with Filch at the doors of the castle.

"And my father said that I could have a huge dinner party at my house when I turn sixteen, of course only the most important people will be invited, none of the scum you find lying around here these days." Draco's smug voice was matched by his even smugger expression as he strutted past Joanne, wiping mud off his shoes onto the floor where she had cleaned.

"Well, the important people are only going because it's a chance for them to smarmy up to your dad and the 'scum' as you put it wouldn't go if you paid them. It's going to be a pretty sad party if nobody is actually there because they want to be."

Draco sneered, "On your knees doing a house elf's job are you? If I gave you my shoes would you clean them as well like a good servant?"

"You're even more stupid than you look aren't you?" said Joanne, standing up and yawning at him. "If you give a house elf shoes, they'd be free. No wonder Slytherin can't win Quidditch seen as it requires more than one brain cell at a time to function."

Draco snarled and whipped out his wand. Joanne pointed to the floor at his feet.

"Frigus!"

The water on the stone turned to ice and Draco skidded, crashing into Crabbe and Goyle who were not quick enough to save themselves and fell into a heap. She pointed again.

"Tepidus."

The ice unfroze and soaked them where they lay, Draco frantically trying to fight his way out from underneath two sixteen stone people.

"I'll let Filch know that you were so overcome with guilt at walking mud onto his nice clean floor that you've decided to continue from where I left off."

As she walked away she heard a deep chuckle from the shadows on her left. Professor le Fay emerged from the shadows, today dressed in ruffled white shirt with billowy sleeves and tight fitting black pants decorated along each leg with silver cross stitching. Joanne stared. He looked like a pirate, not a wizard. He saw her stare.

"I find robes get in the way, too much material floating about. Taken unawares, by the time you've fought through it all to get to your wand, the enemy has hexed you a dozen times and written a letter home telling their mother all about it."

"Flagr.."

Draco stopped dead as le Fay produced his wand seemingly out of thin air and flicked it to create a solid barrier between him and Joanne.

"Using hexes in the halls Draco? Surely that's against the rules?" le Fay raised an inquiring eyebrow and Draco, recovering from the shock of how swift the spell had been cast, lowered his wand and attempted to look chastised.

"Yes Sir."

"Now I think you should finish scrubbing the floor before Filch comes back and finds you some other jobs to do."

Draco glared at Joanne but turned and amazingly didn't slam the door behind him.

"How do you do that?" Joanne asked, amazed.

"Do what?" le Fay had tucked his wand away again, Joanne had no idea where seeing how tight his pants were.

"You know, influence people. Make them do what you want them to."

He grinned enigmatically and started walking down the corridor, beckoning her to follow him. "That is a story for another day. Come on, I want to show you something."

Joanne was expecting him to lead her to the DADA classroom but instead he led her up small passageways and down dimly lit corridors. In one or two places the only way they could get down them was by shuffling sideways, passing slits of windows through which she glimpsed the forest east of the castle. Long grey cobwebs drifted across her face and wiping her hands down her robes to remove them just made her even filthier. Eventually, after climbing a couple of flights of shallow steps they reached a small door. Professor le Fay paused next to it and gave her a slight bow. "After you."


	6. Chapter 6

Joanne's unexpected adventure - Chapter 6

A split second after she had walked in to the pitch black room she thought she had been led straight into a trap and spun round, expecting to see the door slam behind her, but le Fay followed and with a graceful movement of his wrist, made the heavy velvet drapes pull back from the windows. The pale autumn sunlight revealed a hexagonal room, sparsely furnished, with just a large wooden table in the centre with various bowls, parchment and ink piled to one side. A dark mahogany bookcase to the left stood mostly empty apart from a few heavy tombs lying flat and forgotten on the shelves. In front of the lead-paned windows directly ahead of her was a carved wooden chair and it was towards this she walked.

The mountains north of the castle, rising high into the pale sky, dominated the landscape seen from the window. The room provided a breathtaking view to the east and west as well, all the way round from the lake to the forest. She sensed le Fay walking up behind her.

'How did we get so far up?'

'The door is a portal. Whoever used this room evidently didn't want to walk up endless flights of stairs every time they came here.' Made sense she supposed.

'What was it used for?'

Le Fay strolled over to the west window and looked across to where small black dots clustered around the edge of the lake, students enjoying the sunshine before the wetter weather of winter forced them to spend most days indoors.

'Defence. This tower provides a more or less a three-sixty degree view for miles around, any enemy approaching was spotted a long time before it actually arrived. Well, unless they came through the forest,' he paused and gave her a wolfish grin, 'but few would ever dare venture in there.'

Joanne sat down on the chair and tucked her feet underneath her. The armrests were deeply carved with swirls, which when she looked closer turned out to be dozens of dragons intertwined with one another. Many were snarling, showing gaping jaws ready to devour their neighbours. She traced their long sinuous bodies, admiring the astonishing attention to detail. Le Fay perched on the stone windowsill in front of her, tilting his head back against the glass so deep shadows were cast across his face.

'Who would attack here though?' She continued. 'We're invisible to Muggles and there aren't marauding bands of wizards on the loose.'

Le Fay smiled and tipped his head forward again. 'Correct. However, there used to be. Back when this place was first built there were warring fractions of wizarding clans, each loyal to their own, very similar to the Scottish Muggle clans that also lived around here. Why do you think this place was built as a castle instead of just a school building? Dragons were also much more widespread then, reportedly used as weapons with young ones being trained to carry witches and wizards into battle, but they were often too difficult to handle. Entire settlements burned down just because of one over-excited dragon.' He indicated with one hand. 'With such an excellent view all around and the protection of very, very powerful enchantments, the castle remained largely unmolested and clans fought each other until they either wiped each other out or formed alliances. Wine?'

Joanne frowned. 'What?'

He produced his wand out of his left sleeve and made two crystal goblets and a decanter of Elf wine materialise out of thin air. Joanne took the drink he offered her and looked at him over the top of her glasses.

'Since when do professors offer students wine?'

Le Fay slowly swirled the golden liquid in his own glass, watching the ripple of sunlight in its depths. 'You are intrigued by me but I am also intrigued by you.'

Joanne sipped her wine and watched him silently as he looked up at her.

'There's something…different about you.'

'You've some room to talk. How do you look so perfect all of the time? People can barely control themselves around you.'

His green eyes flashed in amusement over the rim of his glass as he took a long drink. He balanced the goblet carefully on the sill beside him and took a deep breath. Hesitating, as though slightly ashamed about what he was going to say, he grinned wryly to himself and continued.

'Veela blood. My great grandmother was one and usually it only shows in females but occasionally…' He swept his hands wide to indicate himself then waited for Joanne to cast her judgement.

She studied him carefully; his long blonde hair that almost glowed even in dim light, his eyes the shade of a forest glade, flawless skin and incredible cheekbones. Every move was a pose, designed to set off his immaculate features, but it was always done in a casual, almost unconscious way. All in all, he was frankly stunning.

'That must be useful,' she said.

He shrugged. 'It has its advantages but also its inconveniences. I'm used to it.'

Joanne pretended indifference to his appearance and surveyed the room again from her chair. It looked like it had not been used for a very long time, nothing of comfort was kept up here, any candles or rugs. Her eye was caught by scarring on the floorboards. She had not seen them at first due to the table being positioned on top of most of it, but a few wide arcs had been carved or burned further out into the room.

'What was the point of the burning lines into the floor?' she asked Le Fay.

He did not immediately answer, tapping his fingers against the underneath of the sill. After a few minutes of silence, Joanne opened her mouth to ask him what was wrong but he shook his head.

'It wasn't intentional, it…' He found it difficult to find the right phrase, 'it was more of a side effect, a result of the amount of power, and type of power, being used in the spells being cast.'

Joanne sensed a good story coming on and drank more of her wine to stop herself from asking questions. Le Fay seemed reluctant to continue and stood up abruptly, walking away towards the far window where he stood facing the forest, hair ablaze in the dying light. Just as she was wondering whether she'd gone too far he spun round again and pulled his wand from his sleeve.

'Wingardium Leviosa.'

The table rocked slightly as it rose from the floor and floated to one side, trailing dust in its wake. Revealed in the centre of the room was a mess of circles, arcs and criss-crossing lines, some minor scratches but others were seared deep into the wood. Joanne stood and walked towards them, looking for some sort of pattern.

'They're the remains of horrendous magic, magic that should never have been attempted. In a bid to become stronger and more destructive, the spellcasters experimented with melding curses together, using sacrifices to bring forth terrible things, monsters so horrific that to look upon them would drive a person insane.'

Joanne took a step back and hastily examined her hand where she'd teen tracing a burn. 'Was that necessary?' she asked. 'They already had a castle, heavily warded, why go to such lengths?'

Le Fay twirled his wand absent-mindedly as he crossed back towards her. He had such a lazy grace, and really was beautiful, Joanne thought, wondering if he'd mind if she touched his hair.

'It wasn't them.'

'Pardon?' She dragged herself away from thinking about how deep and green his eyes were and attempted to focus.

'The wizards and witches who first built and protected the castle, these marks weren't created by them, they were made much later.'

She followed him back to the windowsill where he resumed his seat and she sat down next to him. This near, she could feel his body heat where their arms nearly touched and he smelt of sunshine and grass. She wanted to rub her face against his sleeve like a cat.

'It's happening.'

She looked up and he was gazing at her with those incredible eyes, fathomless in their depth. She had trouble getting enough words together to form a sentence.

'What…?'

He twirled a lock of her hair around his finger. 'This world is beginning to affect you. When you first came, you didn't trust me in the slightest but now…' He slowly smiled and Joanne stared, mesmerised. She would have given anything for just one kiss – thrown herself off a cliff if he asked, told him every secret she had. Le Fay closed his eyes and sighed ruefully. He stood and walked a few steps away before turning to face her. Then, he seemed to dim. His hair, earlier blazing like molten gold, reduced in brightness to a light blond and his eyes, piercing her soul, calmed from a maelstrom to a gentle pool. He was still very attractive but Joanne realised that his every breath no longer hopelessly captivated her.

'What on earth happened then?' she asked, dazed. She felt like she'd just run up twelve flights of stairs.

'Magic, Veela blood in its full power. Thankfully I can control it otherwise I'd never be able to get anything done without people coming to a standstill and staring at me.'

Joanne realised that she still had her mouth open and hastily shut it. 'How do you know I'm not from here then?'

'Partly because you don't spend all of your time following me around, but also because you've got the worst back story I've ever heard.'

Her mouth dropped open again indignantly. 'How do you mean 'worst back story you've ever heard?' Who made you up anyway? Probably some hormone-rampaged fourteen year-old who's watched Labyrinth too many times.'

Le Fay grinned evilly and sauntered over to the carved chair, draping himself across it. He lifted a sardonic eyebrow at her.

'Tell me one thing about Bulgaria then seen as you apparently went to Durmstrang for five years.'

'Gou-

'And no goulash.'

'Joanne glared and folded her arms across her chest, trying to think of something else.'

'It might possibly be in the European Union.'

This evidently did not impress him, as he sighed and folded his arms behind his head.

'Can I have a guess?' he asked. Joanne shrugged and twisted so she had her back braced against a stone pillar and her feet stretched out along the sill. Le Fay was studying her, trying to make up his mind and looking back still made her feel a bit giddy so instead, she looked out of the window where she could see that students were still milling around outside and in the distance, small specks swooped through the air over the Quidditch pitch.

'A demon.'

She gave him an unimpressed look back. 'If I was a demon, wouldn't I be running about causing havoc?'

'You burnt down a greenhouse.'

Joanne didn't have an answer to that so she just sniffed and looked back outside.

'Wasn't my fault,' she muttered.

'Hah, alright. Not a demon, they're never this touchy. You're human then, but from another world.'

Joanne wondered whether telling him that he was a made-up character in somebody's fanfiction story would break the rule of affecting cannon behaviour, even though he wasn't originally in Harry Potter, or whether he was a bit of an anomaly himself.

'I was brought here to observe,' she said, finally. 'I don't know how long I'm going to be here for, presumably when I've learnt my lesson.'

Her teacher swung his legs down and gave her a quizzical look. 'Learnt your lesson?'

Joanne waved her hand vaguely around. 'I was rubbishing other people's ideas. I think this is supposed to make me stop being clever and appreciate other people's work.'

'Is it working?'

'Well, I'm still here and I think Divination's a load of codswallop so no, not really.'

He rested his chin on his hand and looked at her through strands of his hair.

'You're turning your mojo on again aren't you?'

He laughed and sat back. 'What's mojo?' Joanne thought it was best to leave it there and nodded back at the burnt floorboards. 'So, if they weren't made by people protecting the castle, who was it?'

'We need more wine for this.' He produced another decanter, filled both of their glasses and settled himself back against the snarling Razorback twined along the top of his chair. Joanne sipped her wine and decided that it was one of the few things she'd miss back in the real world. That and the tall, blond hunk of manliness opposite her. He half closed his eyes against the late afternoon sun and started to speak.

'It was many centuries later, and the magic community had begun its seclusion from Muggle society.'


End file.
